Tick Tock
by cherii tomato
Summary: She is a ticking time bomb, prepared to blow but not ready enough. Haunted by the devils that dwell in the darkest corners in her mind, she is, undoubtedly, perpetually broken.


**Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice and all recognizable characters belong to Tachibana Higuchi**

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><p>::Tick Tock::<p>

by

::cherii tomato

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><p>May Madness #2<p>

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><p>It had happened right in front of her eyes.<p>

She, the inventor of the device that was made for one purpose only—to destroy—was bent over, tinkering with her newest and perhaps the deadliest invention she had ever created. He, the Academy's most valuable asset and also the lieutenant for the operation stood beside her, guarding the inventor and killing anyone that wished to interrupt their plans. A fireball was ready in his hand.

Her fingers moved in a blur as she entered a series of command into a handheld controller. "Done."

He gave her a curt nod. With a swift motion, he flung the fireball towards an enemy who came too close towards them for his liking. He kept a tight grip onto the inventor's arm and ran away as the device began to countdown to its destruction.

But the inventor who was always so precise in her calculations and so accurate in her inventions had made a small mistake.

A mistake that was paid with a deadly price.

The device malfunctioned and backfired. What was supposed to destroy enemies positioned within a five mile radius and also set off a chain of bombs after a two-minute countdown exploded in just five seconds. What was supposed to warn the inventor and her companion through their wristwatches failed, therefore rendering the allies unaware and helpless to their sudden fate.

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><p>The deafening sound hit her before anything else. Startled, she whipped her head around to see what was happening.<p>

Only to be greeted with the sight of her best friend and the love of her life being blown into pieces.

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><p>Ninety-eight per cent of AAO agents were killed in the battle, along with fifty-five per cent of the Academy's own battalion. The two per cent of AAO agents who survived had to flee and were forced to lick their own wounds.<p>

Three hundred and forty-one bodies were found, not including those who were blown into pieces.

Not including the both of them, which will increase the death toll to three hundred and forty-three, at the very least.

Three hundred and forty-three lives were lost. More than three hundred and forty-three lives will be affected with their sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, cousins, friends, lovers, gone.

She was not excluded as being one of the affected ones.

Nothing will be the same ever again.

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><p>The moment the device was set off, when the bombs exploded and the ninety-eight per cent of AAO agents were killed, the Academy was pronounced the obvious victor in the war. A massive clean-up was done. Bodies that belong to the enemies were burned into ashes; bodies of the allies of the Academy were fitted into plain wooden caskets.<p>

As for the others, the body parts were all burned along with the enemy.

The individuals that had contributed to the war and were still alive were healed up as soon as possible. Two weeks after the war, a celebratory ceremony cum memorial for the dead was held. Students' parents were invited to enter the gates of the Academy for the very first time.

But then again, no one was in the mood for a celebration.

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><p>Being one of the participants of the war, doctors were sent to heal her and erase the scars that served as a glaring reminder of what had happened. The Academy needed their victors to look clean and polished for their ceremony, not just for the sake of having a good-looking image, but also to tell the world that they are the victor, don't try and mess with them.<p>

But no one dared to go near her. Her Alice is unstable and is believed to have caused by posttraumatic stress disorder. One simple touch of her and their Alices will be absorbed into her body. Doctors tried all sorts of ways to heal her wounds and polish them off her skin but all efforts eventually ended with failures and also loss of Alices.

"What's the use in patching her up?" A doctor grumbled once. "She's broken beyond repair. No amount of fixing will ever do."

Eventually, everyone gave up and she was left alone, trapped in her own demented little world.

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><p>The door creaks open and he steps in, barely making a sound. The pitiful sight of her lying on the couch sends a dull ache to his heart. He throws his coat onto the floor before walking over to her. Practically everything about her is a mess: her hair, her clothes and the emotions in her eyes. Pieces of broken glass lie on the floor; magazines, papers, books are all scattered around the room.<p>

"Get up," he orders stiffly, his voice hoarse from all the crying. She doesn't budge so he reaches out, ready to pull her up when she shrinks away from him. He had heard about the condition of her Alice, how one simple touch will rob people of their Alices. But he doesn't mind.

To him, there's nothing left to lose anymore.

His grips tightly onto her arm and yanks her up roughly, ignoring her as the girl kicks and screams. He drags her to the bathroom and pushes her into the tub before turning on the scalding hot water. She reacts to the burn of the water with a loud cry.

He gathers up all the cleansing products that are found in the bathroom before dumping them all onto her lap. "Clean up." With that, the lad walks out, not before slamming the door shut behind him.

She appears from the bathroom an hour later, haggard as ever but definitely cleaner than before. He studies her closely with a small feeling success present in his heart as she drops herself onto the couch she had lied on for the past two weeks.

"Hungry?" He had heard that meals were brought to her room on schedule every day, only to be taken away untouched. "It's amazing how you have not starved to death by now."

He gets up and busies himself with looking for food hidden around her room and returns with a few packets of biscuits, chocolates and a half a box of howalons. The girl's eyes brighten a little the moment her eyes rest on them. He sets the food onto the coffee table.

"Like it or not, you'll have to eat," He says before offering a biscuit towards the girl. At first she hesitates before eventually caving into her gnawing hunger.

A pregnant silence settles between them as the two sits, the girl nibbling on her biscuit while the boy stares into space, something the both of them had been doing frequently ever since the war.

"You didn't go."

She knows what he's talking about immediately. The ceremony. The memorial. An occasion where the Academy flaunts its victory and remembers the dead. For the first time in two weeks—ever since the horrifying incident—she speaks. Her voice is coarse and with each word uttered, her throat suffers from a burning sensation with that is akin to the feeling of being rubbed by sandpaper. "I can't. It's too painful."

"I know. It was." From his pocket he pulls out a small white rose that he had received from the event. It had already gotten pressed after being in his pocket for quite some time. "I saw the Imais. They were crying. Heck, everyone was crying. Even Jinno."

"So it ended?"

He shakes his head. "No. I slipped out. It became too painful, unbearable even." Ruka bends over and buries his face in his hands. "It was terrible."

Usually, back in the days when everything was still well and dandy, Mikan will always place her arms around someone who needs comforting because she was sweet that way.

But the Mikan today, having witnessed one of the most horrifying scene one can see, just looks on as Ruka's shoulders shake with every sob, along with a maniacal little smirk on her face.

It feels good to know that she's not the only one in pain.

"It won't ever heal, will it?" Her voice is barely a whisper. "This pain that's eating me up from the inside. It's never going to go away."

He looks up from his palms, his face redder than ever. "Do you know what one of the speakers said?" Ruka gets onto his feet and starts to pace around the room. "He said, 'We shall forever remember the lives that lost and to honour them, we should move on. Time shall take the pain away.' Easy for him to say, considering that he didn't lose someone that meant the world to him; _he_ wasn't down at the audience seat with the rest of us, crying our eyes out. Easy for him to say."

His legs stop moving as he stands there for a second, as still as a statue. With as much force as he can muster, he kicks the coffee table before flipping it over. The papers, books, cups all fall onto the floor with a loud clang. Mikan stares at him wide-eyed.

His breathing is heavy when he speaks and his voice is dangerously low. "If anyone, _anyone at all_, tells you that the pain will go away, that the wound will heal in time, tell them to go fuck themselves because _they _don't know what they're talking about and they have _no rights_ to say something as stupid as that because they've never gone through what we've been through. If they had, then they wouldn't say something as stupid as that."

Ruka looks up from the floor and stares at Mikan, his face scrunched up from the pain in his heart. "We're irreversibly broken, Mikan. Nothing can fill the gaping hole. _Nothing_ can fix us, ever again."

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><p>The blade's in her hands and she inspects it with the utmost fascination. Her fingers gently run across it. She thinks that she's being careful not to cut herself, so she is faintly surprised when a drop of red oozes out of her skin. She didn't even feel anything. Her tongue laps out to lick the wound. The blood tastes salty and metallic against her taste buds.<p>

_Maybe cutting myself is the best way to go._

She can hear him already, the voice getting louder and louder by the second.

"Patience," she mumbles, trying to calm the voice down but it just continues to increase in its intensity. She stretches her arm out and pulls her palm and fingers back, exposing her wrist before positioning the blade above it. The metal feels cold against her skin. Over the voice, she can practically hear the blood that's rushing through her veins.

A knock on the door is all it takes to break her concentration and the blade falls from her hand, dropping onto the floor. For a moment there she hesitates, debating on whether she should ignore whoever that's knocking and return to what she was doing or just answer it.

"It'll go away," She tells herself as she bends over to pick up the blade. They always do after a while. Sooner or later, everyone doesn't give a damn about the poor, heartbroken little girl.

But the knocks don't stop. For five minutes, there's a recurring three quick knocks with a five-second interval.

In the end, she stuffs the blade into her back pocket. Her feet drag her to the door and she yanks it open. It takes a while to recognise the person that's standing before her.

Sumire Shouda.

Only, she can't be quite sure that the person really is Shouda because she knows that Sumire Shouda will rather die than be seen with a shirt that's two sizes too large for her and also a pair of the baggiest and the ugliest sweatpants Mikan had ever laid eyes on.

Nor will Sumire Shouda ever,_ ever_ crop her curly locks into a short, layered pixie haircut.

Mikan nearly dislocates her jaw.

"Permy?"

The girl before her smiles but it's a smile that does not reach her eyes. An expression many have been sporting since the War.

"Not anymore." Sumire replies while running her hand through her short hair.

It takes Mikan a while to digest everything and when she does, only a word escapes her.

"Why?"

Sumire shrugs. "I needed a new look, a change. Thought I should try out something drastic for once." She sees the shock that is still present on the brunette's face. "It's in style. Emma Watson, Pink are wearing it; Victoria Beckham, Anne Hathaway, Halle Berry all had pixie hair, no big deal. But I'm not here to talk about my new hairstyle, I'm here to give you this." Sumire materializes a book from behind. It's an issue of Naruto, the manga that used to be Natsume's favourite. Seeing it is enough to bring all the memories rushing back to her. Mikan cups a hand against her mouth and the tears start to make their way down her cheek.

It's obvious that Sumire is holding back tears herself. "Koko left this in my room the last night we were together. I know that it's Natsume's and I thought that you should have it." Sumire extends the book over to Mikan and the latter accepts it with trembling hands. She brings the book to the front of her chest.

"Thank you," she manages to choke out the words from her throat. Sumire smiles once more.

"I know that you couldn't take much of his possessions, seeing that the Academy is set on burning everything that once belonged to those who perished in the War." She hastily wipes her tears away with her palm. "I couldn't take anything from Koko's room either. They wouldn't let me."

Unable to hold it back any longer, Sumire breaks out in tears and cries. "All I have left of him is this stupid shirt and sweatpants that don't even look good on me." Mikan stands there, motionless, the book still clutched against her heart.

It takes ten minutes before the cries cease to just a few sobs. "I should probably go. Sorry for bothering you."

Sumire's about to turn and leave when Mikan stops her with a question. "How do you do it?" Sumire turns back to Mikan, a little bit confused. "How do you handle it? How is it that you can be still _alive _after what's happened to Koko?"

Sumire ponders on her question and then a genuine smile that actually reaches her eyes appears on her lips. "It's not simple, it's bloody well hard. There are times where I had suicidal thoughts. But then it hit me: Koko wouldn't want me dead. He'd want me to move on with life; even if he's no longer with me." She reaches out to touch the brunette on her arm, only to remember her unstable condition.

"It's all right. My Alice will only work up towards the people I don't want to see." Mikan holds onto Sumire's hand and begins to cry. Sumire gathers Mikan into her arms and seconds later, they're both crying into each other's arms.

"I don't know how to live anymore, Sumire. It's so torturing. I don't even know if I should go to sleep or stay awake. It's so painful staying awake, knowing he's never coming back.

"But when I close my eyes, there are times where he's still here with me, sitting beside me at the tree. He's always just so real; his voice, his warmth, his touch that's hovering above my skin. But there are times and the bombing scene replays itself, over and over again. And when that happens, there are times when I'm unable to wake up, when I'm forced to watch."

Sumire pats her hair gently, trying to calm the brunette down. "I don't know what I should do anymore. I really don't, Permy."

"You just have to live through it, Mikan. That's the only thing you can do." A moment of silence passes between them before Sumire speaks up once more. "I'm leaving Mikan."

Fear flashes pass Mikan's eyes. She had already lost so many people she loved. "You can't."

"I have to, Mikan. You ask me how I'm going to live through this, well I'm going to tell you how I'm doing it," Sumire looks away, not wanting to let Mikan see the guilt that's surfacing in her eyes, "I'm trying to erase him, all right? You can judge me for all you want, but that's how I'm going through this. I went for a haircut because Koko used to like it so much. It was killing me.

"And I _need_ to leave, Mikan. I can't stay in this hellhole any longer. Koko was the only reason I stayed. And now he's gone and with this place holding so many memories, I can't stay, Mikan. And I'm not coming back. Not to the Academy, not Japan. I'm leaving for good." She squeezes her hand gently. "I hope that you'll understand."

But Mikan yanks her hand away from Sumire's grasp and glares at her darkly. "Screw you, you selfish bitch."

Sumire can only stand in the hallway and stare in shock while Mikan slams the door in her face.

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><p>Sumire was gone the next day. Mikan was in her room when she received the news. She had been crying the entire night and the last wisp of energy had left the body, leaving her no strength left to express—or feel—any emotions towards the news.<p>

She knows that she's never going to be like Sumire because she can never bear the thought of erasing Natsume or Hotaru from her life forever.

But she knows that she needs to take her mind off them sometimes. The temptation offered by Death is so strong there were times she was just _so_ close in embracing Death himself. So she resolves into the thing she does when she's in anguish, when she can't sort out her thoughts clearly—writing.

For three days in a row she sits in front of her computer and the ideas swim freely into her head and her fingers convey them into words that form on her screen.

Her door is never locked so people come and go as the please, but never once did she offer them their attention. Ruka walked in twice, but every time he came in, he would just sit on a sofa for an hour or so, staring blankly into space before leaving as Mikan typed.

But that went on for a week before her body gave in. Her eyes were deteriorating from the constant crying and long exposure towards the screen of the computer; her stomach was beginning to ache from the lack of food; her fingers are hurting from too much typing.

She's falling apart, both mentally and physically. It's only a matter of time before she crumbles completely.

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><p>It has been two months since the death of the two students. But in those two months, Mikan Sakura had transformed into an entirely different human being.<p>

From her appearance, she looks like she had aged twenty years in two months and even the lively spirit in her eyes has disappeared completely. Her emotions didn't get any better, if not growing worse. Not once did she laugh nor smile, and the only emotions she's capable of expressing are anger and sadness.

"They wouldn't want to see you like this." Ruka had told her once. But she doesn't care anymore. Every day she's just going through the motions, going through the actions that she thinks might keep her sane and grounded.

Little does she know that she's merely pushing herself closer and closer to the brink of insanity.

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><p>The moment she opens her eyes, the only person she sees is Narumi who's sitting across her. Like every other survivor from the war she knows, Narumi looks old, older than the age he's supposed to be. He sends her a tired smile when he notices that she's awake.<p>

She shoots up from the sofa and asks, "What are you doing here?"

The smile never wavers from his face. "It's been a while since I last saw you. Just thought I'd drop by and say hi. How are you?" Narumi gives her a once over. "Seems to me you're not doing too well."

Mikan keeps quiet and goes back to her previous position on the couch, her arm pillowing her head as she lies down. She has no interest in entertaining him.

"How are you feeling?"

Silence.

"What are you going to do, now, Mikan?"

No reply.

Narumi sighs, something he's been doing more than ever since the War. "What do you want, Mikan?"

There is a pause and just when Narumi thinks that Mikan is going to ignore him further, she speaks.

"To die." The answer has no impact towards Narumi and his face remains expressionless. "I wish that I could go back in time and die along with them in the explosion. I can't live like this anymore."

A tear rolls down her cheek. Narumi reaches out to pat her gently on her head and kisses her hair. "I know Mikan, I know." He pulls her up and holds her in her arms tightly, continuously smoothing her hair. "I know it hurts."

"I want to die."

Narumi pulls her away. "I've never told anyone about this before, but listen closely." There's a quiver in his voice. Narumi takes a deep breath before continuing, "I saw my family die before my eyes. My father, my mother, my two sisters, they were all slaughtered before me while I was on a beam above them."

He closes his eyes as he relives the memory in his head. "I watched as four men murder my father, I can still picture the blood pouring out from his stomach. I watched my sisters and my mother getting raped. I can still hear their screams, their cries for mercy and the four beasts who laughed.

"I stayed on the beam for a day, unable to get down, not daring to go down. I was only eight."

Mikan stares on, her legs curled up to her chest. "What happened next?"

"The Academy found me the day after and took me in."

"So why're you telling me all this?"

"I was a kid, but old enough to have suicidal thought. I wanted to die. I've tried, but then I realised that it wasn't my time. No matter how hard I try to kill myself, it wasn't possible. It's either someone stopping me from killing myself, or my attempts were never successful. I guess all I'm saying is: if it's not your time yet, don't bother trying; but if it is, then I'll let you go."

As the brunette blinks at his words, Narumi is already beginning to cry. "You're not going to stop me."

He shakes his head gently. "No, because I know I can't. _You're_ the only person who can stop yourself."

His words remain in her ears for a long time, even after he's left the room.

Mikan's grip on the pills tightens, crushing them into powder in the process.

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><p>Her fingers are moving skilfully as they loop one end of a rope around itself again and again. Her eyes are trained onto the television before her. The pictures move but she's not registering what's on it; her brain is too focused on the rope in her hands.<p>

With one last tug, she tightens the knot and holds it at an arm's length to inspect her handiwork.

There's a knock on her door. With a groan, Mikan throws the noose onto the floor and walks over to the door. She had finally decided to lock it a week ago, when she realised that she couldn't handle the throngs of people who came and went as they pleased.

Ruka had stopped coming over after that.

Mikan is mildly surprised by Anna who is standing in front of the door. She was here for three times during the earlier days, where Mikan could only lie on the couch like a corpse. Every time Anna will arrive with trays of food, be it cakes, cookies, soups, or an entire full-course meal. But every single time, she'll have to take them away. No amount of coaxing could've made Mikan have even a teaspoon of soup.

In the end, Anna, unable to face anymore of Mikan's rejection towards her food, had given up. Just like the doctors that were sent to heal her, the nurses who were assigned to take care of her.

Just like everyone else in her life, Anna had given up on Mikan.

"Hi," the pink-haired girl greets sheepishly. There's a bowl of salad on her left hand while the other hand is holding a set of graduation robe on a hanger. "I got you some food. And this is yours." Anna hands over the robe to Mikan. She hesitates for a moment before accepting it gingerly, inspecting the object.

"Graduation?" Her brain processes the information slowly before realisation takes place. "Oh, right. Graduation is tomorrow."

Which means that it's been half a year since the War.

Upon hearing her coarse, raspy voice, Anna almost busts out in tears. The Mikan in front of her looks horrible. Her cheekbones are extremely hollowed, her lips have turned thin, her skin is dry and flaky, and her hair that was once so luscious has thinned out drastically. But the thing that's the most shocking is her beautiful brown eyes that have become so cold and lifeless.

Anna could no longer hold it back anymore and the bowl drops, spilling its contents onto the floor as she flings her arms around Mikan.

"Mikan," she sobs. "Please don't do this to yourself anymore. Please remember that there are still people who love you and are here for you. I love you and I will always be here for you."

But she would never expect the brunette's next actions. She pushes Anna away from her with a feral growl. Anna can only stand in shock.

"Mikan?"

"Don't touch me." Her voice has a sharp edge to it and there's a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Anna is one of the survivors who didn't lose someone she dearly loves. She doesn't have a boyfriend, she has no siblings in the Academy and all her best friends are still alive and kicking. Yes, Anna is one of those people who are fortunate enough to be spared from the torturing grief of losing a loved one.

Mikan is jealous of her for it. She hates that Anna is so lucky and that she can still smile like nothing's ever happen.

"I don't care if you love me," she says coldly with a shake of her head, "because _I _don't love _you_."

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><p>For the first time in months, Mikan is once again sitting in front of her computer, a blank document opened on the screen. She stares at the blinking cursor. Blink on, blink off. Blink on, blink off. Here one second, gone the next.<p>

Her mind wonders off as she thinks about the ceremony that is currently being held in the Academy's Grand Hall. She knows that she should at least show up for her own graduation but she couldn't stand the thought of coming face to face with so many familiar faces.

She closes her eyes and in her mind she can picture the scene.

Her friends walking onto the stage to accept their certificates.

Everyone cheering and throwing their mortarboards into the air.

People hugging and congratulating each other with tears in their eyes.

Hotaru with her trusty camera, snapping pictures of everyone, purely for memorial and not her money-making schemes.

Sumire breathing a sigh of relief, unable to believe that she had actually survived through school.

Koko and Kitsuneme playing stupid pranks on random people.

Natsume, right beside her, a protective arm wrapped around her waist as he kisses her gently on her lips.

Her eyes snap open immediately.

It was only just an imagination and she can feel her heart aching and the familiar sensation at the corners of her eyes, indicating that she's about to cry.

_Why?_

With her fingers trembling uncontrollably, she brings them onto her keyboard and begins to type.

* * *

><p>On the day of the graduation, there were fourteen empty seats. Twelve of those seats were meant for the twelve graduates who should've been there. Twelve brave souls who have sacrificed their lives for the Academy. Twelve graduates who were never coming back.<p>

As for the other two, one was for Sumire Shouda who should've been a graduate if she didn't escape from the Academy. Though at first, many had raised their voice against the idea of leaving an empty seat for her, but because of the fact that she had fought for Academy, they had reluctantly agreed to it in the end.

The other one was for a certain brunette who has been missing all classes and events for the past few months. Some say she had gone crazy; some say she had fallen into a coma; some say the Academy was just hiding the truth about her escape, not unlike Sumire Shouda.

So many speculations, yet no one can be sure.

Ruka was eyeing the crowd throughout the event, hoping that the girl will at least be willing to make an appearance to one of the most important events in her life.

Really, who in their right mind will want to miss their own graduation?

Then again, Mikan Sakura had lost her sense of logic a long time ago.

"She's really not coming huh?" Mochu commented drily while he plopped into the seat besides Ruka, his mortarboard lying askew on his head. He blew the tassel away from his face and crossed his arms before his chest.

Ruka could only grimace. "I don't think she is."

"God," Mochu grumbled unhappily, "I'm sick and tired of her. That fucking drama queen! She's ruining this whole event for everyone since everyone loved her so much. This is supposed to be a happy event, and yet because of her, everything is so bitter. That bitch."

"Mochu," Ruka frowned slightly, "you can't blame her. She lost the two of them."

Mochu rolled his eyes and with his Alice, he kept his tassel away from his face. "Whatever. It's been more than half a year. For fuck's sake, get over it."

"It's not that easy, Mochu."

"Well I don't give a damn about that woman. I'm pretty damn sure that she doesn't give a fuck about us, so I won't give a fuck about her. That selfish bitch. She can wallow in her own sadness for all she wants 'cause I don't care. If pity is what she's seeking from us, then tell her to go to hell, I ain't gonna give a flying fuck about that bitch."

Ruka watched as Mochu stormed away while people steered clear away from his path. He pondered on his last sentence.

But not for long because everyone in the room had gotten onto their feet and throwing their mortarboards into the air, glad that for once and for all, they were finally free.

* * *

><p><strong>Time bomb<strong>, by _Mikan Sakura_

I am a ticking time bomb. Prepared to blow but not ready enough.

_Tick tock. Tick Tock._

They tell me I'm human, but am I? How human am I if I've lost my sanity? My energy? My soul? My spirit?

How human am if I've lost the will to live?

_Tick tock. Tick tock._

I hear him speaking to me, coaxing me to join him with his sweet persuasions. The thought of living in a state of oblivion seems scary but oddly enough, it comforts me. The sheer thought of having to live a lifetime floating in nothing but nothingness calms my nerves, especially when I'm trapped in my own horrifying cage situated in the deepest, darkest corners of my mind.

_Tick tock. Tick tock._

"Join me," he says, "join me and you'll never have a single worry ever again. Join me and I'll free you from your pain." His talon-like fingers caress my cheeks as he tempts me with his words, in his deep, velvety voice, uttering sweet promises he says he'll keep.

But will he?

_Tick tock. Tick tock._

There were a few times I've almost succumbed into his words, his gentle persuasions, his sweet promises. But there's always someone, something that stops me from joining him.

A friend.

A teacher.

A sentence.

A thought.

A flower.

A sound.

Anna.

Ruka.

Sumire.

Those were the things and the people who prevented me from caving into his seduction.

I'm not sure I can say that they've saved me. If they did, do I want to be saved?

_Tick tock. Tick tock._

There are so many things that I know I'll miss.

But the things I miss the most are the things are the things that are lost from me, forever.

_Tick tock. Tick tock._

I miss the time when we didn't have a care about the world. I miss the time when war was just another word. I miss the time when we were able to hang out, have fun. I miss our trips to Central Town. I miss the fun we had. I miss smiling. I miss laughing. I miss hearing you guys laugh.

I miss Nonoko. I miss Kitsuneme. I miss Tsubasa. I miss Misaki. I miss Yuu. I miss Hotaru. I miss Koko.

I miss you.

But you're all dead. Gone. Forever.

_Tick tock. Tick tock._

He's still there, hanging in the air. I can't see him, I can't touch him, but I can feel him, hear him. Telling me how time's nearly up. Calling me to slice the blade across my skin, swallow the pills into my system, place the rope around my neck. Yes, I know he's impatient, I know he wants me badly.

I wonder who's going to stop me now.

_Tick tock. Tick tock._

I'm a ticking time bomb, and time's up.

_Tick tock._

* * *

><p><strong>A special thanks to my lovely beta, my-silver-lining. As always, you're awesome. (:<strong>_  
><em>


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